


On the Clock

by riyku



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riyku/pseuds/riyku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After hours, at the office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Clock

"Leave it on," Jared says.

  
Jensen's fingers freeze on the knot of his tie, just barely loosened. Jared wraps it around his fist and uses it to pull Jensen in close. It's soft. Expensive. Jensen slots himself between Jared's legs, pushing them wider apart with his body and making Jared's ass slide backward a fraction on the slick, polished surface of the board room table. 

  
"You really screwed the pooch on the Anderson account," Jensen says, messing around with the buttons on Jared's shirt.

  
"Are we actually going to talk about this right now?" Jared asks. 

  
"It's my ass on the line too, you know."

  
Jared shuts him up with a kiss, deep and filthy right out of the starting gate, his thighs snugged up tight along Jensen's hips and his heels set against the backs of Jensen's knees, holding him in place. Jensen groans into Jared's mouth and fights to control the kiss, pushing his tongue inside and sliding it along Jared's, angling them just so.

  
"Don't sweat it," Jared tells him when they pull apart. "I'll fix it. Wouldn't want anything to happen to that ass of yours." To prove his point, Jared untucks Jensen's shirt and worms his way past the waistband of his boxers. The muscles of Jensen's ass tighten when Jared palms them, digging his fingers in and squeezing.

  
The room is shadowy, lit only by the emergency exit sign down the hall. Jensen's eyes are a wet glint in the darkness, his smile a vague flash of white teeth as Jared's sight adjusts. Jared thinks fleetingly about turning the lights on, kinda wants to see Jensen better. It's cute, the way the tips of Jensen's ears go red when he's turned on. So is the flush that starts at his neck and works its way up to his cheekbones, not that Jared would ever tell Jensen that. Fucking around with your boss was one thing, but calling him cute just might be a firing offense.

  
Jensen drops a hand to Jared's lap, traces the shape of his cock through Jared's flimsy dress pants; it's a teasingly light touch.  
Jared's hips shoot forward and he slams the heel of his hand onto the table. Jared's hard, has been since Jensen had shown up at his cubicle a few minutes back. He'd tipped a hip against the wall, thrown a condom and a bottle of lube on Jared's desk and said,  
"You wanna?"

  
"Easy," Jensen says now, between small nips at Jared's jaw. "You don't want to break the table."

  
"We can always blame it on housekeeping," Jared tells him and latches onto Jensen's neck, tasting the bitter traces of this morning's aftershave.

  
"You're probably onto something." Jensen pushes Jared backward, one hand planted firmly in the center of Jared's chest and the other pulling at his belt. He yanks Jared's pants down just enough to free his cock, heavy and aching and shining wetly at the tip. Jensen jerks him once, down to the base and up again, fingers wrapped around him with a perfect sort of pressure. It takes every speck of Jared's willpower to keep still when Jensen sucks just the head of his cock into his mouth. He knows exactly how Jared likes it, running the tip of Jared's cock along his teeth, letting Jared feel their hard, slick surface, then opens up and dips his tongue along Jared's slit. Jensen hums at the taste, pulls off with a wet-sounding pop and licks his lips.

  
"Fuck. C'mon," Jared says. He can feel his pulse everywhere: from his fingertips to his toes, a rushing beat in his chest and in his cock. From between his legs, Jensen smirks, and the cocky twist of his mouth sends another jolt through Jared's stomach. 

  
Goddamn, the things this guy does to him. 

  
Curling his hands in the waist of Jared's pants, Jensen shimmies them down and off, saying "Don't want to have to explain that to your drycleaner."

  
"Again," Jared admits. "Jesus, last time it was a month before I could look the guy in the eye."

  
Jensen crawls up along Jared's body, chuckling, the soft fabric of his shirt a cool flutter against Jared's skin. He skims his teeth along the nub of Jared's nipple then licks at it, sending another shot of heat across Jared's chest. Jared squirms beneath him, trapped between the unyielding flat surface of the table and the solid weight of Jensen between his legs, his cock catching and dragging against Jensen's flat belly. 

  
Jensen loses patience, rips at the last few buttons of Jared's shirt and lets it fall open. The buttons skitter across the table and onto the floor.

  
"Thanks for that," Jared says.

  
"I'll give you one of mine." Jensen smears his mouth along Jared's collarbone, flattens his tongue into the hollow of Jared's throat.

  
"Might be a little tight."

  
"Might be the point," Jensen counters. He kisses Jared once more then levers himself off of the table and looks down at him.

Jared's the one exposed here, legs splayed wide and bent over the edge of the table, cock a heated line against his stomach, his shirt open and puddled at his sides. Jensen stands over him, a little disheveled, tie hanging crooked and shirt untucked, but still fully clothed. Jared knows he's on display and he couldn't care less, makes the most of it, in fact, drawing his legs up and hooking his heels on the edge of the table, reaching down to take his cock in hand and slowly running his fist up and down the curved length of it. 

  
Jensen makes this needy little sound, breathy and almost keening. He kisses the inside of Jared's thigh, high up, his end-of-the-day stubble rasping on Jared's sensitive skin. "Your turn or mine?" he asks.

  
"Lost track," Jared says, aiming for nonchalant and shooting wide of the mark. He wants Jensen inside of him, just the idea of it is enough to send a shockwave zipping across his nerves. "I'm already on my back," he points out.

  
"Yeah--yeah," Jensen stammers, then reaches for the lube. The snick of the bottle makes Jared's cock twitch hugely in his hand, precome pulsing, dripping onto his stomach and down his shaft.

  
Jensen doesn't fuck around. He slicks his fingers and doesn't wait for the stuff to warm up before he's pressing inside of Jared, two fingers right away. It's cool, and Jared hisses a quick breath between his teeth and clenches down on Jensen's fingers, his legs involuntarily trying to come together. His shiver is replaced with a moan when Jensen adds another finger, twists his wrist and reaches deeper, working his open with a dull aching stretch that makes Jared arch his back and crook an elbow over his eyes. Jared's still working his cock with slow lazy strokes. Jensen weaves the fingers of his free hand alongside Jared's and picks up the pace.

  
"I'm good," Jared breathes out. An urgency builds in his gut, his balls throbbing and pulling close to his body. Jensen's gotta get a move on or Jared's gonna finish before it's even really started. "C'mon. Get in me."

  
"Goddamn bossy," Jensen says, but he pulls his fingers out, wiping them on Jared's thigh.

  
Jared pants. "You have absolutely no right to call me bossy."

  
Jensen laughs again, hoarse and low. The snick of his zipper makes Jared look up, blinking away haziness. Jensen doesn't even take his pants off, just lets them catch half-way down his thighs, belt buckle dangling and boxers all bunched up. His cock juts out, dark against the bright white of his shirt, long and thick, the head of it damp and glistening. It makes Jared's mouth water.

  
All of Jared's breath punches out of his lungs when Jensen sinks into him in one steady, deliberate slide. He only gives Jared a heartbeat to adjust, to get accustomed to the intrusion of Jensen's cock buried so hot and deep inside of him before he's rocking backward, the head of his cock catching on Jared's rim and stretching it with a searing jolt of pleasure. Jensen thrusts back in hard, his hips connecting to Jared's ass with a stinging slap. 

  
The force shoves Jared along the table. Jensen growls, hooks a hand behind Jared's knee and jack-knifes Jared's leg up onto his shoulder. "Don't you go anywhere," he says, skims his teeth along the thin skin of Jared's ankle and fitting his hands against the shape of Jared's hipbones. His thrusts have slowed, turned into languid shallow, the slightest drag of Jensen's cock inside of him. Jared's glad. He needed a second to catch up.

  
"Don't have much of a choice," Jared says, and it has a magnetizing effect on Jensen. His breath catches and then he's yanking Jared toward him by his hips, slamming Jared down hard on his cock, grinding in deep then even deeper, huge powerful thrusts punctuated by small circles of Jensen's hips. Sensation wakes up every cell in Jared's body when Jensen cants his hips in a very specific way to rub against Jared's sweet spot. 

  
"'Atta boy," Jensen says, cocky, as Jared tosses his head backward, spine bending upward and his mouth spouting out filth.

Jensen leans over him, pinning Jared's leg to his chest in a way that almost hurts. He bites at Jared's bottom lip, licks at it a second later to settle the sting. "You almost there, kiddo?" he whispers, breath falling in warm puffs against Jared's skin. "Fuck. I love it when you come on my cock." He spits in his palm and fists Jared's dick, matching it to the pace of his thrusts, urgent and fast.

  
It's impossible. Jared tries to hold back, balance on the edge of orgasm, but he never stood a chance. Not really. His dick aches, twitches in Jensen's fist. Jared can feel the pulse of it and his balls tighten. Jensen kisses him again, the muscles in his legs trembling with the effort of his thrusts and Jared comes hard, a searing white hot wave that makes him shake all over. Streaks of spunk paint the space between their bodies, shoot sticky on Jared's stomach and Jensen's chest. Jensen jacks him through it, the rhythm faltering. 

  
Jared pulls Jensen down, sweat and slick come making the skin of their stomachs slippery. Jensen's breath hitches and his chest heaves against Jared's. Jared's vision has gone fuzzy, his arms and legs weak as Jensen pounds into him, chasing his own orgasm. He folds his arms around Jensen's neck, holding tight, and licks along the shell of his ear then clenches down on Jensen's cock, trying to keep him close. Jensen's cock throbs inside of him, thickens further when Jensen comes. Jensen collapses, face buried in Jared's neck and his hips stuttering in frantic little bursts as he rides out the last spikes of his orgasm. Jensen tangles a hand in Jared's hair and kisses him. Tender this time and curiously chaste, just a press of his closed mouth against Jared's. It's the reason Jared sticks around. 

  
With a wicked grin, Jared whispers close to Jensen's ear. "I'm still on the clock."

  
fin

Thanks for reading.

  



End file.
